Gregory Can't Help But Roll His Eyes At Rosa's Statement ; He Doesn't Mean To Be Rude, Not Really, But

★ — Gregory can't help but roll his eyes at Rosa's statement ; he doesn't mean to be rude, not really, but it's hard to believe her when he knows if there were any other option, Michael wouldn't have taken him in. ( or, at least, he's convinced himself of that fact ).

Nervous motion ( the way his fingers absently play with the open edge of the bag of chips, the way he keeps shifting despite being seated on the ground with his back against a wall, the way his eyes seem to be constantly flickering, as if he needs to be entirely aware of his surroundings at any given time ) stills at her question, lips pressing together into a thin line. What did he like? It was a little pathetic to say he didn't know — but that was the truth. Even before the pizzaplex, before he was tossed into foster care, Gregory was never afforded the time to simply be a kid. He shrugs in answer.

" .... arcade games are pretty cool. Like all the one's at the pizzaplex. I got the high score on one." ( after he snuck in, but before the doors were locked on him. he doesn't mention that, of course ). "Video games too, but I don't get to play them that often."

make  no  mistake  gregory,  she  does  not  like  disclosing  too  much  information.  rosa  thinks  herself  a  failure  of  a  mother,  &*  of  a  wife.  no  matter  how  many  times  people  will  tell  her  she  did  the  right  thing,  it  won't  feel  like  it.  though,  michael  was  always  .  .  .  he  was  her  special  boy,  her  first.  the  one  she  perhaps  should  have  payed  more  attention  to,  if  that  was  even  possible.  so  she  averts  the  boy's  eyes  &*  looks  to  the  ground  to  grin.  yup,  sounds  like  him.  those  chocolate  hues  of  hers  hold  so  much  pain,  but  she  does  her  best  to  set  that  aside  talking  to  gregory  but  it  seems  he  doesn't  know.  that  there  is  no  real  family  anymore.  she's  said  too  much,  she's  not  going  to  air  out  his  dirty  laundry  for  him.  '  well,  i  guess  not.  but  we're  glad  you're  here.  '

the  thing  in  talking  with  kids  is  you  have  to  find  something  they're  interested  in,  even  if  they're  abnormal  kids  like  gregory.  who've  seen  so  much  in  their  short  time.  but  she  tries,  wants  him  to  feel  as  though  she  is  genuinely  interested.  '  hey  listen  tell  me  what  you  like  instead.  do  you  like  card  games  ?  board  games  ?  since  michael  failed  in  talking  about  you,  why  don't  you  do  it  ?  '

Sometimes, I cry so hard I can feel it in my ribs. / I feel like the real me is backed into a corner inside me

— Ama Asantewa Diaka, from "Saturday Evening WhatsApp Message," Woman, Eat Me Whole

anyways I think it's very funny whenever someone tries to get gregory to actually leave at 6am after desperately trying to keep him safe and he just goes. actually no ——.

WHAT'S CHILDHOOD LIKE? IT'S A LITTLE LIKE DYING, A LITTLE LIKE BEING BORN. WHICH IS TO SAY, IT'S NOTHING YOU CAN REMEMBER, BUT YOU KNOW THERE WAS BLOOD.

independent gregory of five nights at freddy's: security breach. canon divergent and heavily headcanon based. as adored by lune. ©

"don't say i didn't warn you ."

↪ 𝑫𝑶𝑵'𝑻 𝑺𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑨𝑻 𝑴𝑬 . ( a collection of lyric starters from an assortment of billie eilish songs .

★ — It's 6am.

They're standing by the front doors of the pizzaplex.

The shutters have lifted, for the first time in hours — by all accounts, Gregory should be running out the doors as fast as he can possibly manage, never looking back. He isn't trapped any longer. Against all odds, he survived. But he stands firm in his ground, just in front of the double set of doors. A mere footstep away from being outside. With his hands balled into fists at his side, brows furrowed and jaw set.

His gaze flickers between Freddy ( a few steps away, seemingly lingering behind ) and Michael ( just in front of him, almost like he might just push him out the door ), one looking almost optimistic while the latter looks at him in shock.

Gregory refuses to leave. If he leaves, it will only be a matter of time until it's another child — only maybe Freddy won't be himself to protect them, maybe they won't last long enough for Michael to find them. This horrible cycle will just continue, and his own escape will mean nothing. But if he stays .... if he stays, they can keep going. They can get to the bottom of this. Put a stop to it, make sure no more kids are trapped in some sick game of cat and mouse.

He'd made up his mind before they even reached the doors. Michael never stood a chance of convincing him otherwise. ( especially not when Gregory would have turned around and come back inside the moment the man was out of sight, even if he was pushed past the doors ).

A smile crosses over the kid's features when the man reluctantly gives in.

He half - bounces in place before quickly clearing the distance between himself and Freddy, flashing the bear a momentary bright grin. ( doesn't quite reach out for his hand, even though it seems like he might for a moment ). Smile is tempered down, and he glances back towards Michael.

"So where are we going first?"

i’m right here.

RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS (1/?)

★ — He has no idea what time it is when he startles awake ; only that it must be late, sometime in the dead of night when everything in the mundane world turns to silence. The faint buzz of the AC unit feels distant, the heavy staccato beat of his own heart overtaking everything. He doesn't even realize his own breath comes out shaky, trembling, small.

( at least he hadn't screamed. he hates it the most when he wakes up screaming ).

Eyes are wide as he tries to get his bearings, blinking rapidly as he tries to adjust to the darkness of the apartment. He must've fallen asleep on the couch. Again. Sleeping in his own room has been hard since he and Cassie were in the pizzaplex together, his eyes playing tricks on him in the shadowy corners while he's alone — there's nothing there, he knows there's nothing with them here, but the fear pricks under his skin and he doesn't feel safe. It's dark in the living room, now. It's dark, there's so many places for something to be hiding, and he's alone ——.

Someone speaks. Michael.

Of course it's Michael. It's always Michael, right when he needs him. Gregory gasps, his eyes flickering towards the voice despite the fact that all he can make out is a vague outline of the man on the opposite end of the couch. For a moment, he just stares. How long had he been there? Wasn't he going to sleep? Then, he pushes himself upright a bit more ( takes note of the blanket draped over his form, which he's pretty sure wasn't there before he fell asleep ) and rubs harshly at his eyes. Breathes out a sigh of relief, his breathing and heartbeat finally beginning to settle and even out. He shuffles a bit closer to his guardian. Not a lot, but enough that it's noticeable.

Isn't it a little embarrassing? Had Michael caught on that Gregory suddenly didn't like to be alone ( especially not in the dark, especially not while he was sleeping, not while he's defenseless )? He feels like some helpless little kid.

"..... Sorry."